A Long Time Ago, on Some Planet Far, Far From Here
by Awaysky Gray
Summary: Yay! My Dashy fic! So, if you've played the game, you know Dash "disappears" after the Skyhook battle. Well, here's what I think happens! I don't own anything, but the plot and some characters that will pop up sometime. I'll let you know.


CHAPTER I

Enter Dash Rendar (very generic, I know)

"Whoa!"

A massive explosion rocked the senses of the dozens of pilots who'd just helped to an end to the operations of Xizor's skyhook. But there was one ship that hadn't made it out of the internal machinery of the station—the core that would immediately kill the secret operations that had been incubating within the hallways and among the brains of some of the most dangerous villains any had ever heard of. This ship was known as the Outrider, piloted by the infamous, notorious Dash Rendar.

"Wait, where's Dash?" Silently, every one of the pilots contemplated on the answer—the one they knew was the _only_ answer—and turned their minds to believe he was gone. For good. Yes, even this amazing man couldn't slip so stealthily through the grip of death when challenged to a single-ended duel. No one wanted to believe it, but everyone ­_knew_ it. Surely, he couldn't make it out in time—the explosion was too big, too fast . . .

But for Dash? No . . . or could it really be? Could it really be that Dash had finally met his match? His equal? His final page in his brief, sad history?

"He didn't make it out in time . . ."

Silence persisted, was broken by another voice: "We lost a good man today, but we can't let it slow us down. We have another life to save, and he just may have made it possible to still keep this hope alive. We can't let it slow us down. Let's go."

Somberly, the fleet abandoned this site—this battlefield. They _had_ lost a good man that day, and all without the chance to find where he was going. Yes, indeed they'd lost him, but not to death. He'd been swiftly taken through into another life by the hands of golden opportunity.

So, in a way, he was still gone, yet discovered once again. There was no reason to worry, of course. Dash would be back in safe hands and history again someday, somehow, somewhere.

And so does ill fate foolishly laugh. So cries the foolish thoughts of those who'd known him. I mean, it's Dash Rendar! We all know he's unbeatable, invincible, and _entirely_ Dash Rendar!

"Ha, Leebo, I wonder how many people think we're dead now—or destroyed, or whatever . . . in your case."

"Probably everyone, sir. I'm not even sure _I _am still intact."

Dash emerged from the turret, smiling as he half-jogged over to look through the cockpit to see Leebo, tense with fear. Isn't it odd how these druids can feel emotion? Whatever . . . Dash sat himself down in the co-pilot's seat, leaned back and relaxed as he smiled on. "Look, Leebo, this is just great! We're legendary heroes now! We've already claimed fame in one galaxy, why not do it again in another one? Start new lives from scratch, you know? How awesome would that be?"

"Fairly awesome, sir, I suppose," the droid replied. Not like he really _thought_ about it or anything, that's just the way he was programmed. Dumb droid. Dash smiled more, anyway, knowing that he would, at least, be content.

"No more bounty on my head, Leebo. I wish you could feel how good this feels. The ship's all mine. No one's going to try to take it away or anything . . ." He looked through the window. "I wonder where we'll end up? Perhaps we'll come across new life? New planets? I wonder what it'll be like?"

"You sure do a lot of wondering, sir."

"Well," Dash grunted as he got up, started removing his blaster and armor, "if you could, wouldn't you? Boy, do I feel sorry for you . . . and me. I wish I didn't have to celebrate this victory with a _droid_ . . ." Lazily, he tossed his armor, blaster and boots into the corner. He'd always had that habit, not just being lazy, but especially after he'd just done something as big as what he'd just accomplished. At least he had control and was only lazy when he'd worked so hard and when it was affordable, anyway. Smelling his armpits, he determined a shower might have to come before relaxation. "Ugh . . . I smell like an old bantha. Leebo, get something for me to eat while I shower, okay? I'd appreciate it. Not like the droid would care or anything, he was just a _droid_.

"Yes, sir." The usual.

Dash only nodded, grabbed a few clothes and stepped happily into the tiny bathroom the Outrider was equipped with. There, in the shower, he contemplated on his new life, picking apart and analyzing it in every detail, way, and form. It's a totally new life. It's so hard to think of, knowing that I'm no longer Dash Rendar, the smuggler who flies the Outrider—fastest ship known to all life, and my best getaway. Maybe I'll meet a girl . . . only I wouldn't treat her like any other junk I've picked up; no, I'd treat her like a _bounty. _I'd treat her like she meant something to me, like I truly . . .

Only he didn't say, "loved her." It was so overrated and, from what he'd seen, was something more than a hassle. How come things like this particular dream of his never came true? Was it the fact that he'd never really been too serious about anything? No, of course not. If anyone could have any sort of conscious feeling for his old friend _Saullo_, then surely Dash could pick up all the women he wanted.

Perhaps it's my smell, he jokingly thought as he watched the dirt and grime run off his body and into the shower drain. Maybe I should actually wash up instead of sit here and daydream—I can do that, and there's not a limited supply to that, like this dumb ol' shower.

Useless. Just as he decided to do so, the water stopped flowing, and now he'd have to wait for about four minutes for the water to filter through and fill this shower tank again. No problem, not like he had anywhere to go so soon. He smiled. In patience, he waited within the walls of this severely cramped shower, then drifted through space and into his silly dreams once again. Perhaps we'd be bounty hunters together, roaming the galaxy for a high price, risking life at every turn. Maybe she'll have blond hair, sun-worn skin. Like a working girl. Maybe just an average girl—that might be nice, being as I have some demented robot for company that can only reiterate positive advice and comments instead of constructive criticism and honesty. Some use he's been.

But Dash felt a sort of soft spot for his droid. He'd been useful, after all, and he'd been good company—for a droid. He laughed at the thought. Leebo's no _woman_, but he _was_ Leebo.

Maybe, he continued, we would just settle down in a small home with a little family—kids who'd love their daddy . . .

His thoughts seemed to drown in the shower water now as it spouted down onto his body once more. The initial shock of the temperature startled him at first, but weakened as he danced around and shook his head calling, "Brrr, ooga booga." After washing his hair and rinsing the soap from his body again, he pounded the console to turn the water off, stepped out and grabbed a towel Leebo was holding out to him. Dash took it, towel-dried his hair while shaking his head and running through the "Brrr, ooga booga" routing once more.

"Your meal is ready for you, sir." Good ol' Leebo.

"Thanks," he replied, shaking his somewhat dry head and throwing on a shirt and some pants. The steam from the bathroom crept into the common area of the sip, dissipated into the air. The droid dutifully cleaned up in the bathroom as his master sat down to a meal and began wolfing it down.

"I hope it was prepared to your liking, sir." Good ol' Leebo.

"As always." If Dash had negated the comment, Leebo would have ripped the tray from Dash's grip and insisted that the error became corrected. It wasn't worth the struggle. Not today, at least. After a few more bites, he looked at Leebo inquisitively, finished his mouthful and swallowed. "How far do you think we should travel, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose as far as you'd please."

"As, we haven't even left our galaxy yet. Let's just keep going, how about that?"

"I do suppose, sir."

Good ol' Leebo, makes me feel as if I haven't got an enemy or any reason to be disagreed with. "Go ahead and shut off the drive, we'll just drift at this speed for a while. Only leave on the necessary equipment to keep us alive—oh, and the star map, too, alright? I don't feel like colliding with a star or anything, mind you, and I'd like to know where we could visit some incoming planets, alright?"

"As you wish, sir." Again, Leebo carried out his orders without resistance. Perhaps a little resistance might be nice every once in a while, Leebo was so boring! All he ever did was what Dash wanted him to do—no more, never less. It was always, "Yes, of course, sir," or "As you wish, sir" or something else that would put Dash's near insanity into other words. How faithful, how irritating . . . but then again, he wasn't too bad to have around. Some company, he supposed, was better than being alone, especially if you were traveling to the bitter ends of nowhere.

He could only smile. With a final bite of his meal, he stood and cleared his throat, turned to his sleeping quarters. "Leebo, I'm going to nod off. Why don't you keep an eye on things, whilst I go to sleep? Just wake me up if something goes on—you know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Please specify, sir."

Dash sighed. Of course. "Let me know if there is a stage one red alert or a stage one green alert, alright?" Respectively, they specified a mild warning on the ship's power condition and the entering into another specific solar system. Not like it would be too hard. Or would it? No one was sure what was out there, if anything at all, but gambling was like a sixth sense to Dash; it was natural to him, and he had a really good feeling about where they were going.

Leebo didn't argue, only agreed to watch over the ship. From what Dash could tell, they'd be going for an awful long time before any other sign of life would show up, and he didn't want to sit and wait for the specific moment when anything would happen. Of course, it would come when he least expected it, so all he could do was . . . well, sleep, eat, and do anything else his little heart desired.

The droid set faithfully to his duty of cleaning up the kitchen area, then sat idly in the cockpit area to wait for any sign of a stage one red alert or green alert. Sure, it might take a while, but then again, he was a _droid_, and could feel no emotion at all.


End file.
